


Hollow Truth

by raiining



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, M/M, Marvel Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. spoilers, no Captain America Winter Soldier spoilers, random feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:01:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1420681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiining/pseuds/raiining
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil's not an important person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hollow Truth

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on tumblr and then cleaned up by Ralkana. THANK YOU RAL!

Phil's not an important person.

He knows his team _thinks_ he is, because they witnessed S.H.I.E.L.D. scramble heaven-and-earth to find him, but that's really something completely different. 

Nick Fury is a friend – a close, personal friend – and in many ways he’s the only one Phil's got. Sure, Phil’s worked with gods like Thor in the past and Sitwell calls him 'friend', but Phil knows that's a dig and actually means completely the opposite. They aren't friends, they're colleagues, and colleagues should know better than to ask each other where Director Fury has gone.

Phil's job is to be efficient and forgettable, and he is very – _very_ – good at his job.

So it's a complete shock when Clint Barton stares at him as if he's some kind of ghost, explosions going off in the distance, because of course The Clairvoyant had to go down in style. 

"You're – alive? You've been alive this whole time?"

"Yes," Phil says, because Nick Fury is an asshole but if he's the only friend Phil's got, well, the reverse is also true. 

Clint's still staring at him with a wide, lost look in his eyes, though, and Phil can see that his hands are clenching at his sides. Not as if he’s trying to make a fist, because Phil's seen Hawkeye go from one hundred percent relaxed to brawling like a schoolboy in zero point three seconds flat, but as if he's trying and failing to wrap his hand around a bow.

"And you didn't think to _tell_ anyone?"

Phil blinks. "I didn't think it would matter?"

He can't help it coming out as a question, because – why? Why would anyone, why would _Hawkeye_ , ever care if Phil lived or died?

The sound Clint makes in the back of his throat has Phil reflexively stepping forward because it honestly sounds like he's dying. 

Clint startles him by reaching over and gripping Phil’s shoulders, and Phil has to hide a wince because the strength in those arms is, as he's always suspected, incredible. He ignores how long he's fantasized about Clint holding him, touching him, and stares instead into Clint's eyes.

"It matters to me,” Clint says, and his voice is a mess, hoarse and garbled and strangled on the last syllable like he's forgotten how words work halfway through. "It would. It _does_.”

"Okay," Phil breathes. His eyes are burning but he doesn’t dare blink, doesn't dare look away, because he still can't believe this moment is happening and honestly can't imagine it ever taking place again. "Okay."


End file.
